


Sunlight

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: Lifeline [3]
Category: The Brave (TV 2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff, Gen, With Just A Little Teeny Bit of Angst, for flavor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 08:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13543830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: Patricia figures it out. (References to 1X10, 1X13, and previous fics in the series.)





	Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> Once the events of 1X13 became an official part of my canon, this seemed kind of inevitable. If you're interested, my reference for the food is [here](https://www.timeout.com/istanbul/restaurants/the-best-turkish-street-foods) (#1 and #5, specifically).

Affection of any kind was a dangerous thing, in their business, but at the end of the day it could also be what kept you alive. Patricia knew she was attached to her people far more than standard protocol appreciated, but even according to that baseline Adam Dalton had always been special.

From the very beginning, she’d seen too much of herself in the quiet young man who pretended to be detached but wanted so very badly to save people. She knew his history, read between the lines of the articles and paperwork to get a heartbreakingly good idea of what hadn’t been written down, and could admit to herself that the mother in her had responded as well. Somewhere deep in her heart, Patricia Campbell had two sons.

She would never tell him that, though she hoped that somehow he knew it anyway. They both knew all too well how untrustworthy words could be, how easily they could twist and betray, and though they teased each other like family their truest moments had never relied on what was said. Like a handclasp on a quiet morning in her hospital room, her locket dropped back into her palm in silent acknowledgement that he’d made it back safely. She wouldn’t have mourned Alex anyway, no matter how he’d died, but she would have traded far more than justice with Adam’s life in the balance.

At the moment, though, life or death was thankfully a problem for another time. Preach was awake, his lungs doing remarkably well given everything they’d gone through, and every time she went in to see him or one of the team stopped by to see her she could feel their joy over that fact shimmering in the air like sunlight. Patricia was doing even better, enough that she knew she could talk the doctors into letting her go back to D.C. if she wanted.

She very carefully didn’t bring that fact up to anyone, serenely telling those who asked that it would be a “few more days” until she’d be well enough to move. No one questioned her on it, including the nurses, and not pushing herself for once was a small price to pay for the company.

Today, Adam sat in the small chair, legs stretched out in front of him and relaxed in a way she hardly ever got to see him be. “Oh, I forgot to tell you – the dog showed up again this morning,” he said, humor warming his voice. “And I can’t be sure, but there was something about the smug smile he was wearing that made me think the base is going to be getting some paternity calls from Turkish dog owners in a couple of months.”

Patricia smiled a little. “And I assume those will need to be routed to you?” Now that the dog had come back, she’d be willing to lay good money on Adam taking it back stateside with him.

He gave her back that same, small smile. “Why do you think he wants to come with me so bad? He wants an ocean between himself and any angry puppy mamas he happened to leave behind.”

Her smile widened at that. “If that’s the case, he really should keep in mind how much of a soft touch you are.”

He grinned at her, but before he could respond Jaz poked her head in through the open doorway. “Preach is begging us to bring him something other than hospital food, so McG and I are making a run. You two want anything?”

Patricia smiled at her, pleased they’d included her. “I’d kill for some Tantuni, the hotter the better.”

Jaz smiled back at her. “Excellent choice. I’ll just double my usual order.” She looked over at Adam, who by this point had leaned back further in his chair so he could look at her over his shoulder. “Don’t you dare say simit, Top. You need to eat some _actual_ food.”

“Simit _is_ food.” Though he was angled the wrong way for Patricia to see the smile on his face, she could hear it in his voice. “Good food. It’s not it’s fault the rest of you don’t appreciate subtlety like you should.”

Jaz tried to give him a chiding look, but the affection on her face took any sting out of it. “Even bagels are supposed to have stuff _on_ them. No one chews on a piece of bread and goes ‘mmmm, tasty.’”

“Then they don’t know what they’re missing out on.” Adam’s tone had warmed even more, a depth of softness to it Patricia had heard from him so rarely in the past eight years she wouldn’t need more than one hand to count the instances. He’d twisted slightly in the chair, body angling toward Jaz like a plant hungry for sunlight.

Something inside Patricia went very still as she looked back at Jaz, who was rolling her eyes at Adam. It was the soft smile on her face, however, that said so much more. Patricia knew better than anyone that tough women saved their softness for the things that mattered the very most. “You’re a lunatic.”

“So I’ve been told.” She realized now that Adam was even more relaxed than he had been, unguarded in a way she was almost certain she’d never seen him be. He seemed… young, almost, in a way she suspected he’d never had the chance to be even when he _was_ younger. As if, with Jaz, he finally felt safe enough to let himself be.

Jaz left with a wave, and Adam turned back around to face Patricia. Whatever he saw in her face made him go still, shoulders tightening in automatic defense. Not ashamed at all, but ready to fight if he had to. Ready to defend what she'd just seen against anyone, even if it was her.

As his superior, there were a dozen different questions she should be asking him right now. But she already knew the answer to some of them, and the rest didn't make a damn bit of difference. It was the heart that compromised you, not your body, and a love like she'd just seen didn't spring up immediately. They'd done their jobs despite it, or because of it, and she'd trust that they would continue to do so.

But there was one question, borne of painfully belated understanding, that she couldn't stop herself from giving voice to. "Leaving her behind would have broken you, wouldn't it?" she asked quietly.

He started a little, like that was the last thing he'd expected her to say. Then, after a heartbeat, he gave her a small nod heavy with the weight of truth.

Patricia let out a breath, wondering suddenly if he'd intended to leave at all. If he would have agreed long enough to get the rest of the team out, then simply stepped aside at the last minute and not been part of the exfiltration. If he would have stayed behind with Jaz, whether or not he'd had a plan to get her out.

Looking into Adam's guarded, determined eyes, Patricia knew she didn't want to find out the answer. So instead of asking, she gave him her best "You've got to be kidding me" look. "Simit, Adam? Really?"

Adam hesitated another moment, processing her silent offer to keep their secret. Then the tension drained out of his body, and he leaned forward with an animated expression. "It's _literally_ the most popular street food in Turkey. I have an entire _population_ on my side in this."

She smiled a little, leaning back against the pillow. "As a _breakfast_ food. The rest of the day, they eat something more complicated than just basic carbs."

“Hey, basic carbs are delicious,” he countered easily. “They’re also excellent treat food, which simit is because I don’t get to eat it very often.” He pointed at her. “You should have one, before those fire sticks you and Jaz eat blow out your taste buds.”

“My taste buds are just fine, thank you. Some of us can handle a little heat.”

“That’s the exact argument Jaz uses, but I notice that neither of you mention anything about being able to taste actual _flavors_ in it.”

The debate, happily, continued for almost an hour.

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my [original fiction,](https://jennifferwardell.wixsite.com/mybooks) my [blog,](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


End file.
